


all the stars (in your eyes)

by jonghhho



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys Kissing, Domestic Fluff, Dragon!Mingi, Dragons, Fluff, Implied Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Implied Song Mingi/KangYeosang, Implied poly relationship, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Seasonal Spirits and Guardians, Spring Spirit!Seonghwa, Winter Spirit!Hongjoong, Winter Spirit!Yeosang, human!yunho, it just kind of snowballed (pun kind of intended?), kind of, loosely based off of rise of the guardians, lots of talk about stars, the lore makes sense...sort of, yeosang might be in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28397352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonghhho/pseuds/jonghhho
Summary: “You can see me?”The boy starts a little at Yeosang’s voice, taking the slightest step back and clenching his hands up into fists. His cheeks and ears have started growing pink, whether it’s from this encounter or from the cold, he’s not sure.“Uhm, yes?”Or; yunhoseesyeosang for who he truly is.
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	all the stars (in your eyes)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youngjo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/gifts).



> this work is for koa for the writertiny secret santa exchange!!  
> i'm sorry it's so late (T.T) but i really hope you like it! it snowballed a little so idk if it comes across to make much sense in the end ~.~  
> happy holidays to you and a very merry new year!!

Fresh, chilled air parts Yeosang’s hair as he lets the Eastern winds carry him forward. He can feel Father Winter still present in the way the air above smells faintly of pine and velvet, clinging to the last of the warm front that’s still lingering somewhere in the lower atmosphere.

He lets the winds take him where he needs to go, loose limbed and content to just let the tickling sensation of the Eastern wind wrap around his arms and legs and guide him down toward the city, over roofs, and past towers; agile and fluid and a little quirky in its movements. 

It’s gentle when it slows and he can almost hear it as it whispers to him about the snow and cold, whipping past his shoulders and gently dropping him down onto the cold, concrete railing of a third floor balcony belonging to some unsuspecting apartments along the North river. 

His feet make muffled thudding sounds as he lands and crouches just slightly to gain his balance back. He’s fallen off a few balconies in his life as the snow-bringer and he’s not too eager to get back to it. 

He takes a sweeping look over the city, at the festive lights that have been put up along window panes and at the tops of street lamps. Christmas is coming, and along with it the cold and snow of winter. Yeosang takes a deep breath and tries to figure out how he wants to bring the first snow to this particular city. 

He’s got a hand on his chin and the other arm is crossed over his chest as he thinks and he almost doesn’t hear the slight crunching of the shoe on the concrete just to his left. When he whips around, there’s a boy, tall and handsome with round features and wide eyes staring straight at him, still as a statue. 

Yeosang falters for a second, blinking and looking the boy up and down and the boy blinks and does the same, eyes never leaving him. When Yeosang realizes what he’s seeing, he gasps and promptly jumps down from the rail and onto the balcony. 

“You can see me?” 

The boy starts a little at Yeosang’s voice, taking the slightest step back and clenching his hands up into fists. His cheeks and ears have started growing pink, whether it’s from this encounter or from the cold, he’s not sure. 

“Uhm, yes?” 

Yeosang stands up straight at the answer. He takes a look around him, checking the concrete balcony for any signs of witchcraft or some kind of trapping rune, but he sees nothing but a dying potted plant and the chair that the boy had no doubt been sitting in when Yeosang landed.

“But you’re human,” he finally says, bringing a hand up to tug at the string of his hoodie, studying the tall boy’s face again. His eyes are still wide in wonder and slight confusion and he now realizes that he’s just wearing light pajamas and has a cup cradled to his chest. 

_How had Yeosang not noticed him when he landed?_

“I’m human b-but I have the _sight_ …” the boy starts and then stops to let a full bodied shiver travel through him. He looks at Yeosang again with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry, but would it be possible to do this inside? My ass is gonna fall off from the cold.” 

Yeosang doesn’t know what makes him so compliant, but he finds himself inside of the boy’s apartment. It’s a quaint little place in which there’s just a single room that holds everything (aside from the bathroom). The boy sets his empty mug down and wraps a thick blanket around his shoulders before turning to face Yeosang again. He faintly notices that the floor beneath his bare feet is warm.

“Uhm, yea...Hi, I’m Yunho. I’m one one hundred percent human but my family has a long history of being able to _see_ the world for what it is. It’s some kind of powerful generational magic that’s been lost in translation down the line, but uh...yea. Hi,” the boy explains, eyes scrunching up as he smiles wide at Yeosang. 

He narrows his eyes and purses his lips. He’s heard of humans with the _sight_ , though he’s never encountered one. Or, maybe he has and he just doesn’t know because the human in question hadn’t really bothered with it. Yeosang looks around at the little apartment for any witch-y items again but doesn’t notice anything suspicious. 

“You were sitting in that chair when I dropped onto your balcony?” He asks, pointing to the wooden chair outside. The boy, Yunho, nods looking a little like an obedient puppy. 

Yeosang doesn’t know what to make of the situation. There’s a tall, handsome boy in front of him looking absolutely confused and a little in awe, cuddled inside of a giant blanket and Yeosang has never—in his two thousand years of life—been in quite such an appalling situation. 

“And you were just gonna let me do whatever I was doing on your balcony? What if I was a demon or something?” He asks flabbergasted, but the other boy just chuckles.

“Well, I know you’re not a demon, you don’t have that dark red aura.” 

Yeosang is taken aback by this. “You can read my aura? Can you read anyone’s aura?” 

He’s not sure what’s stopping him from just knocking this human unconscious and disappearing with the wind. He’s not really sure why the warmth under his feet feels so inviting. He usually hates the warmth or any kind of heat in general. 

“Uh, yea. I mean, humans don’t have an aura, naturally, but different species all have different colored auras.” He stalls a little before continuing. “But I’ve never seen an aura like yours.” 

The boy’s eyes then flicker just slightly above Yeosang’s head and travel around him, like he’s seeing a bubble encasing him. Yeosang’s only ever heard of true oracles to have this gift of seeing auras. Maybe…

“Before you ask; no, I’m not an oracle. My family may have blood roots to a powerful oracle, but I can’t give you any insight on...anything really.” He smiles, bringing a hand up to run through his own hair. He moves to sit on the edge of his bed, smile blossoming over his round cheeks. Yeosang is _not_ distracted by it at all. 

"You're this...silvery gold aura that I've never really seen before" the boy continues and then chuckles. "It's pretty."

Yeosang sighs and drags a hand down his face. What had those Eastern winds gotten him into? "Look, you've obviously had a lot of run-ins with different species of creatures. Fine. Whatever. Just don't mention seeing me to anyone, okay? I like to keep a low profile." 

Yunho just nods obediently and keeps smiling that squishy smile. Yeosang definitely does _not_ wonder what those cheeks would feel like under his cold fingers. He shakes his thoughts and steps back toward the balcony when the boy's voice breaks through the silence.

"What are you?"

Yeosang sputters and turns around, fixing the boy with his best glare. It doesn't seem to be working though because the boy just keeps staring at him curiously.

"That's a very insensitive question, some would say," he quips back, tone a little aggressive. He hopes it delivers as such, but no luck. Yunho just giggles into his blanket.

"Yea, I did get in some trouble a while back for asking some hags what they were. I think it was mostly the disgruntled look on my face that offended them though."

Yeosang groans a little, throwing his head back. He does not have time for playful banter with a pretty boy. Absolutely not. He's gotta bring down winter and snow to the city! The forecast's been calling for the first snow for days and he's actually a little behind on his visits because of a _certain_ Sandman that might have accidentally (not accidental at all) put him to sleep for three days with the most annoying dream in which Yeosang had been wading through rivers of strawberry milkshake for the entirety of it. 

"Look, it's not important who or what I am. Just, don't mention me to anyone and we'll be fine, got it?" Yeosang asks, pointing an accusing finger at the boy. He nods, eyes round and expression a little somber. 

"I can't really mention you to anyone if I don't know what you are…" he says but Yeosang just huffs another sigh and steps back to the balcony. The concrete isn't exactly cold when he steps back onto it, but it is hard and less welcoming than the warm floorboards of Yunho's apartment.

He doesn't look back as he climbs back onto the rails and catches the first wind his fingers are able to latch onto.

  


Snow flurries around him as Yeosang finds himself falling fast toward the cement balcony he’d visited just two weeks ago. It’s probably very rude in human standards, but Yeosang isn’t exactly human and he’s furious up to his ears so he doesn’t really feel bad as he rips open the door to the balcony and stalks into the apartment. 

Yunho is bustling around in his tiny corner of a kitchen when Yeosang enters and somehow only curiously turns around with wide eyes. When he sees Yeosang, the smile that appears lights up his entire face. 

“Hey, you came back!” the human says happily, but laughs a little nervously now, probably seeing the look on Yeosang’s face. “I’m happy to see you?”

“You blabbed about seeing me,” he confronts. His voice is surprisingly steady and calm, at odds with the anger licking inside of him. “After I specifically told you not to.”

The human chuckles a little, nervous energy still present. The potatoes on the stove are starting to burn and Yunho quickly whips around to turn off the stove, moving the pan to the side. 

“Look, I just wanted to get a little more information about you. I just asked my family and that was it.” 

Yeosang rolls his eyes and takes another step forward. “I know you blabbed about me to someone else. Someone not human.” 

“ _Damn_ it, Mingi.” Yunho groans, throwing his hands up with a sigh. He fixes Yeosang with a wide-eyed look. “Never trust a dragon to keep your secrets!”

The human turns and grabs some bowls and dishes from his cabinets as Yeosang raises an eyebrow. How in the name of Mother Nature had this human somehow met and kept contact with a whole ass dragon? And not just any dragon, but Mingi? 

Yeosang knows Mingi all too well. He’s loud and stubborn and a bit of a hardhead in some ways but he’s also kind and gentle. And Yeosang knows he likes to make friends, so it really shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, except it is because Yeosang knows— _he knows_ —that Mingi has literally three, _maybe five_ , friends and Yunho is not one of them.

Yunho sighs as he plates some rice and sides and then brings a tray of food over to the little coffee table in front of his TV. Yeosang regards him with narrowed eyes. 

“Want some food?” The human asks, holding up his bowl of rice toward him. Yeosang doesn’t answer, staring down at the steaming bowl of rice. Yunho just shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll have you know, _I_ am an excellent cook.” 

He shoves a spoonful of rice into his mouth and hums, shoveling some radish in next and then topping it off with soup. Yeosang cringes as the human smiles happily down at his food, not knowing if he should be extremely annoyed or a little dazzled by the cute way his cheeks puff up. 

“I could literally turn you into an ice sculpture,” is what he comes up with as he plops down onto the couch in front of Yunho. The human looks up at him and smirks. “But you won’t.” He says around a mouthful.

Yeosang grumbles and rolls his eyes. “And how do you know that, pray tell?” 

Yunho lets out a breathy laugh, chewing and swallowing his food before answering. “Because you’re nice.”

Yeosang definitely glowers at the human as he eats some more, happily chewing and swallowing spoonfuls of food. The way he eats is cute and if Yeosang were able to eat, he’d probably be kind of hungry watching this human. But alas, he just stares at Yunho scrutinizingly. 

“Is that what Mingi told you? That I’m _nice_?”

The bubble of laughter that rises out of Yunho is almost endearing (almost). 

“Yea! He said you’re the _nicest_ , _oldest_ winter spirit ever!” the human exclaims, smiling. Yeosang can’t help but notice the red pepper flake stuck in his teeth. “He told me about how one time you asked the winds to help save a baby polar bear because the ice under it was cracking. And then, he also told me about this one time you made an icy spot appear in front of this car because there was a little puppy in the road a–” 

Yeosang waves his hand and Yunho yelps as a ball of snow lands on his head, cutting off his tangent about Yeosang being _nice_. The human’s face does a weird little thing before he fixes his gaze on Yeosang, a sparkle in his eyes. "That's so cool. It's like when Mingi breathes smoke out if his nose."

Yeosang sputters and sits up a little. "It's _nothing_ like Mingi breathin–listen here, _human_." He spits the last word out like it's sizzling his tongue. "I'm not supposed to be visible to you, nor am I even supposed to be wasting my time trying to make sure you don't go telling all of the wrong types of people or creatures about me."

He feels annoyance creeping up into the back of his head again. "It's gonna be too much chaos and danger and everything's gonna be ruined if you don't shut up about seeing me, got it?" 

When he looks down at Yunho's face again, there's a hint of a serious looking frown drawn across his mouth as his eyes keep doing that sparkling thing. He nods at Yeosang's words. "But, I wouldn't ever just tell anyone about you, " Yunho mumbles. Yeosang feels the emotion drain out of him at this, making him deflate like a balloon. 

"What? You literally told Mingi about me."

'Yea, but that's Mingi. He's like you isn't he? Rare and super vulnerable and basically the only one of his kind?" Yunho tilts his head, suckles the ends of his chopsticks. "I haven't told a soul about Mingi. Haven't even written about him in the family journal, just in my own personal one."

Yeosang finds his interests piqued at this. It is true that Mingi's existence hasn't breached the magical creatures on earth. Mingi, as well as the other spirits keep to themselves, cloaked in mystery and something close to godliness. But the thing that interests him more is the mention of the journal. 

He leans his elbows onto his knees and looks down at Yunho, the tall human basically at his line of sight, even while sitting on the floor.

"A family journal, you say?" 

Yunho perks up, probably excited to be talking again. The human seems eager to talk. "Yea, my family—the entire bloodline of Jeongs—keep an extensive journal about the things we witness with our _sight_. The collection's got nearly three hundred books and a ton of private journals too. Every member of the Jeong family with the _sight_ keeps one. Wanna see?"

The human scrambles up and practically bounces to his desk situated just on the other side of the room, not more than two meters away. He rummages through piles of things that Yeosang can see are all just normal human-like things—textbooks and a half finished paper mache figurine. When he finally finds the thing he's looking for Yunho lets out a triumphant little trill and bounces back to the coffee table. He lays a small leather bound book in front of Yeosang. It looks old and smells earthy, but also seems to be sturdy and in good shape. 

"Was my great, great….great, great, great grandmother's?" the statement turns into a question. Yunho is counting on his fingers, repeating the word 'great' over and over again under his breath. The sight of the distracted human, counting on his fingers with his lips nearly all the way pouted, _does not_ do something to make Yeosang’s heartbeat a little faster. He sighs and reaches over to flip through the book. 

Except, as he tries to thumb open the book, it doesn't budge. The leather cover stays put, and the book bends but doesn't open up. Yunho chuckles beside him. "It won't open for you, silly. It'll only open for someone under the Jeong bloodline, though the spellwork on these older ones is a little faulty and doesn't distinguish between those with the sight and those without it."

Yeosang is taken aback. This might be an important family heirloom, but surely it doesn't need such thorough magic? It's just records and stuff, isn't it? But then he realizes the extensive trough of information tucked into every single page in each volume and shudders at the thought of it being available to just any set of eyes. "Then open it," he commands, not missing a beat.

Yunho sniggers and shakes his head, leaning back slightly. "I said you could look. _At_ it, not _in_ it."

His laughter is light, and although Yeosang ought to be much more upset that he's being bested by a human, he's also a little intrigued. Here he was, fuming just ten minutes ago from having a run in with some incompetent human who didn't know what was good for him, only to have had his anger drained and instead sparks of annoyance and something like interest leftover? Yeosang groans a little at himself and then thinks, _'maybe Yunho has a bit of fae blood in him?'_ It would explain why Yeosang feels so oddly attracted to the idiot. 

"Haha, very funny," he says flatly and throws the book back into the human's lap. He stands. "If you don't have any other lame human jokes to pull, I would like to kindly remind you to shut your mouth about me for the rest of eternity so that I can go on in peace and never look at your face, again." He sounds miffed, but half of it doesn't quite reach his words. 

"Cold, much?" Yunho quips with the twitch of his lips. It earns another glare from Yeosang.

"Yes, very. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some _snowy_ matters to attend to." Gosh, Yeosang wants to slap himself for indulging the human so much, but it draws a tinkling laugh out of Yunho. 

"Hey! See, you are nice! Look at you getting all chummy with me and cracking jokes!"

Yeosang lets out a deep sigh. His facade is crackling as Yunho's breathy laughter rings out. The tiniest of smiles tugs at the corner of his lips.

"Wait, you're actually leaving?" Yunho asks, when Yeosang goes to open the door to the balcony. When he turns to face the human again, he's shocked to find Yunho's much closer than he'd realized. He looks up at the annoyingly tall human, zeroes in on his pretty face and fluffy hair and still sparkling eyes. He turns. 

"Don't make me come back, Yunho," he says before stepping out. He doesn't dare look back when he hears the human call out something to him. The wind he's grabbed a hold of tries to whisper the words into his ears, but he blocks it out. 

  


Hongjoong is just as grumpy as him—a ball of anger stuffed into a pretty tiny body that has him entirely too unsatisfied, all the time. He grumbles about ‘stupid humans who don’t understand anything about conserving nature’ at one moment, only to fawn over the cutest baby on the internet the next. He’s a whiplash of a spirit, but he’s the only family Yeosang’s got.

Or, at least, something as close to a family as he can get. 

When Yeosang plops into the soft fur covered couch with a long groan, Hongjoong only barely looks up from the iPhone he clutches in his hands. Yeosang doesn’t understand Hongjoong’s obsession with mortal technology, but he’s learned to not ask about it too. 

“Why the long face, little brother?” Hongjoong asks. Yeosang grumbles again. 

“Not your little brother. I’m literally two hundred years older than you.” 

Hongjoong chuckles. “Mother Nature definitely said my mortal body was older than you, so that means, I’m older than you,” the other answers. He finally pulls his nose out of his phone and looks at Yeosang. “So, tell me, young one. What’s got you so grumpy this time?” 

Yeosang steals a glance over at the other winter spirit. His hair is a strange, choppy silver now and hangs long at the back. Yeosang quirks an eyebrow at the strange style. 

“Is it Mingi? Has our little dragon boy accidentally revealed himself to humans again?” 

Yeosang scoffs at this. He sort of wishes it were that simple. All they’d have to do was get a Sandman or a Time Master to do some sort of funny business and make the humans forget or think it was a dream. But no, Yeosang’s problem isn’t so easy. Actually, he’s not too sure it is a problem.

“There’s a boy,” he says after some deliberation. Hongjoong perks up, sitting up straight and fixing Yeosang with a sharp gaze.

“It’s that lousy, no good Sandman, isn’t it?” Hongjoong squawks. Yeosang rolls his eyes. He doesn’t know what kind of beef the other spirit has for Wooyoung, and he’s not too keen on finding out either. 

“No, it is not Wooyoung.” Yeosang answers and then scrunches his nose at the way Hongjoong seems to be vibrating with irritation next to him, so he adds, “Just fuck it out already. I’m tired of this angry sexual tension.” 

Hongjoong sputters and spews, but Yeosang just ignores him. “I meant it when I said a _boy_.” He says when the other finally quiets down. 

“Like...a _human_ boy?” Yeosang nods. 

“Holy shit,” Hongjoong says, clapping a hand over his mouth. Then his eyes go a little dark and that wicked, almost fae-like look takes over his features. It makes his eyes a little sharper and his lips a little more upturned. Yeosang leans away. “Mother Nature is going to have a fit. Her golden child _finally_ screwing something up.”

Hongjoong’s cackles practically make Yeosang want to bury the spirit under a pile of snow. Maybe this is the reason he dislikes Wooyoung so much: they’re too similar in nature. Annoying, wicked, and shameless in their need for gossip. Yeosang groans even louder now, rubbing his hands over his face and regretting even telling the other.

Soon, Hongjoong’s laughter passes and Yeosang’s sanity hangs by the thinnest thread. He’s got his hands clenched into fistfuls of his hair and a frown maring his features. 

“So what’s going on with Yeosang and the _human_ boy?” Hongjoong asks. 

Yeosang blinks. He doesn’t really know. Well...no, he _knows_ , but he doesn’t really want to admit that for the last month he’s been drifting off in a daze, thinking about Yunho. He’s been thinking about soft, round, blushy cheeks and large, round, sparkly eyes. He’s been thinking about the way the boy’s excited little giggles made him scrunch his nose in a cute way. He’s been thinking about talking to him and just being near him and…

Yeosang has been thinking a _lot_ about Yunho.

The problem is: he can’t exactly place why. Sure, Yunho is special and extremely cute, but it’s not like Yeosang has fallen head over heels for this human. Actually, he’s still quite annoyed by the way Yunho seems entirely too inquisitive and bubbly...yes, definitely too bubbly. It’s just that Yeosang is interested in some way or another and he’s yet to really understand the reason. 

“Nothing,” Yeosang sighs, dejectedly dragging himself from the couch, much to Hongjoong’s surprise. He doesn’t stop when Hongjoong tries to get him to _talk-it-out_ with him. Hongjoong’s never really been the type to talk-in-out anyway. He needs to go to someone who might actually understand. 

  


Mingi is dozing off when Yeosang finds him, nestled in his giant bed underneath five blankets. He’s always been susceptible to the cold, no matter the boiling dragon blood beneath his skin. Yeosang looks around at the place, taking in the light new woody furniture and white walls and floors. He also spots the newest editions of some American home magazines littered around the grey couch. 

He lightly kicks at Mingi’s exposed calf to rouse the dragon and when he gets no response but a slight grunt, he leans down and cups his hand around Mingi’s ankle. The dragon jerks away hastily, letting out a loud whine. He pushes away at his mound of blankets and blinks sleepily up at Yeosang, squinting ferociously. 

“Wh–Yeosang?” He asks, voice low and grating. Yeosang nods and greets him with a hand. Mingi blinks a few times and then yawns big, thumbs at the sleep that’s collected in his eyes and then shoves the blankets back over his shoulders.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think our next dick appointment would be for at least another ten years.” 

Yeosang groans as he flops down onto the unoccupied side of Mingi’s mattress. “You’re terrible,” he grumbles. “You make it sound like I only have you around for your dick.” 

Mingi chuckles low in his throat. “You kind of do. I mean, to be fair I do have a nice dick.” 

Yeosang lands a sharp smack on the dragon’s knee, but it’s covered in layers of blankets and Mingi just laughs again. “Okay. I’m sorry. You’re a good friend and your dick is nice too,” Mingi says, which earns him a pillow shoved into his face. Mingi howls as Yeosang nearly climbs over Mingi’s large frame. He wonders briefly if he could suffocate this mythical creature with a down pillow, but he doubts it and draws back when he’s satisfied and all of the fight eventually drains from Mingi.

When he sits back, he sighs again, looking down at Mingi’s disheveled _everything_. Mingi’s still supposedly his friend, so he’s gotta play nice. And Mother Nature might be disappointed in him if he manages to piss off one of the only dragons on this planet. He plops down into the bed again and closes his eyes.

“I heard you went back to meet Yunho?” Mingi asks, mirth evident in his voice. He’s probably smiling big, with all his teeth showing. Yeosang just answers with a grunt. 

“And let me guess,” he can feel Mingi shifting on the bed. The dragon’s voice is so much closer to his ears than before when he speaks again. “You’re absolutely smitten by him, right?”

When Yeosang cracks open his eyes again, Mingi is, indeed, smiling down at him with that big, toothy smile but the light in his eyes isn’t as wicked as it usually is. It’s softer and almost too subtle. It makes Yeosang think of Yunho.

“Is that what he told you?” Yeosang asks, heartbeat picking up just a notch. Mingi hums. 

“No, he told me that he thought you kind of hated him.” 

Yeosang doesn’t know what he should feel. He’s maybe a little disheartened by the fact that he came off as so angry to Yunho, but he’s sure he showed a little bit of interest in...well, in his family history. He probably did seem rude and maybe even a bit haughty and it’s not that he wasn’t mad, because he definitely was mad, he just–he was…

“I know that look,” Mingi says. Yeosang starts when he feels Mingi’s big, warm hand come up to stroke some of his blond hair out of his face. The dragon has always been gentle and warm. It’s what Yeosang actually likes about Mingi the most.

“Let me tell you a little story about a baby dragon who had gotten lost one day.”

  


In the midst of the biggest snow storm he’s ever conjured, Yeosang finds himself returning to Yunho’s balcony. He’d stayed with Mingi for a few days, learning things about the dragon that he had never been told before, and all of them having something to do with the human he’s about to face right now. 

Keeping the snow storm raging is hard work and Yeosang is definitely a little exhausted when he stumbles onto the balcony. There are no warm lights on in Yunho’s apartment, but Yeosang can feel the human’s presence inside. 

The sliding door is, for some reason, unlocked when Yeosang drags it open silently. He’s not sure if he’s made a sound—because his heart is hammering in his chest—or if it’s the cold air that rushes past him as he enters, but the Yunho sized lump on the double bed in the corner of the room shuffles. 

Yeosang closes the door as Yunho fumbles around for a second before emerging from under his covers in what looks like three sweaters and thumbs on the lamp at his desk. The light is warm and casts long shadows in the darkness, but Yunho looks entirely too dazed and confused (and extremely cute) to understand what’s going on.

“Yeosang?” The human rasps out, swinging his legs out from under the covers and unsteadily getting to his feet. Yeosang wonders if it’s cold—if Yunho has the boiler turned on—as he confirms the three sweaters that cling to Yunho’s frame. 

It probably has to do with the way the snow storm raging outside mirrors the energy inside of him that’s swirling to keep the storm alive—the thought of it alone draining him and making exhaustion creep in on him. It’s probably the way Yunho’s pouting in his sleepy haze, one eye still refusing to open up all the way. It’s probably just the aching, beating of Yeosang’s heart and Mingi’s words that are still ringing in his ears, that makes Yeosang stumble across the tiny living room area and slump onto the couch with a breathy little giggle. 

“Are you okay?” Yunho asks again, coming to stand just behind the couch to peer down at Yeosang. 

The human’s cheeks are flushed with sleep and his eyes are finally open and alert. He’s still got that cute little pout on his lips and his eyebrows are furrowed. Yeosang also hums in discontent when he realizes that the hood of Yunho’s topmost layer pulled up over his head. 

“Do you not have the boiler on?” Yeosang asks, a little slurred. His brain is sluggish and so are his words. 

The human shakes his head. “Too expensive to have it on all night.” 

“Your pipes are gonna freeze.”

“No, they’re not,” Yunho counters, frown deepening. He comes around the couch and sits down on the floor. A big hand comes up to touch Yeosang’s forehead and Yunho starts and retracts when he feels how cold the spirit is. 

“Why are you so cold?” He whines, clenching his hands into balls and shoving them into his pockets. 

Yeosang scoffs. “I’m a winter spirit!” He gestures wildly at the snow piling high outside the sliding doors and then wonders why Yunho doesn’t have curtains to block out some of the cold. “Why don’t you have any curtains?” He blurts. 

“Because they’re expensive, Yeosang. Really, are you okay? You sound like you might be drunk or sick or something.” The human leans in a little and sniffs at Yeosang. “Not drunk, I guess.” 

Yeosang giggles again at Yunho’s expression. He knows his hands are cold, but doesn’t think too much about it when he raises a finger and traces the tip over Yunho’s eyebrows. The human shivers at the touch. “Stop frowning, Yunho. I’m fine. I just…” he trails off, smile wavering. “I talked to Mingi.” 

Yunho blinks as the frown slowly dissipates. “He said you thought I hated you.” The end of his sentence comes out a little breathy as he starts chuckling. 

“Well, you were kind of mad, even though you seemed to like my joke,” Yunho replies, shifting a little. Yeosang finds himself smiling. 

“I did like your joke. You’re funny.” He definitely feels a bit loopy now, the storm outside still raging on in his brain. He should probably take a few hours to just let it settle before kicking it up again. “And I like that you’re special to Mingi. He said you were special and that you were kind. Mingi needs friends like you.” 

Yunho seems to be taken aback by Yeosang’s statement, but the spirit just smiles. Mingi had told Yeosang about Yunho’s kind heart and lovely smile. Mingi had told Yeosang about how Yunho gets his heart broken before he even realizes he’s loved someone. Mingi had told Yeosang about how special Yunho is and how much he couldn’t have asked for a better friend.

“That’s nice,” Yunho says, still blinking a little confusedly. 

It’s the exhaustion seeping into his muddled brain, Yeosang tells himself as his next words tumble from his lips. “Do you think you could be a friend like that for me?” 

When Yeosang fixes his hazy eyes on Yunho, he sees the human’s eyes sparkling in the dim light of the desk lamp. His dark brown eyes twinkle with the light of a million starts from a trillion different galaxies and yet the light is not cold or blinging, but warm and everlasting and Yeosang finds himself letting out the tiniest of breaths.

His brain fizzes out and the tension of the storm drains from his body. He takes another breath of air and feels strings uncoiling in his shoulder and his gut and feels his body melting into the scratchy couch cushions. 

“I’ve been trying to be your friend from the beginning, Yeosang.” Yunho replies finally, bringing a hand up to tuck under Yeosang’s chin. “All you have to do is just let me in.” 

The warmth of Yunho’s hand is nice on his skin. Yeosang leans into it and sighs, closing his eyes and letting himself sink further into the couch. “Tell me about your _sight_ , Yunho. I want to know about the things you’ve seen.” 

Yeosang turns his eyes up to watch as Yunho’s face lights up. The human giggles and launches into a familiar story about a lost baby dragon. Yeosang laughs too when Yunho impersonates Mingi in the middle, dropping his voice a few octaves and puffing out his chest. 

They stay somewhat like that for a long time. Yunho doesn’t let up on telling Yeosang about some of his whimsical meetings with faeries or some of the more serious run-ins with warlocks and shapeshifters. Yeosang lets Yunho climb onto the couch with him, throwing his legs over the human’s in an attempt to share the small furniture. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from Yunho’s sparkling ones, letting himself drown in the deep expanse of space. 

Before he knows it, he’s being moved gingerly to the bed. When he opens his eyes, Yunho’s tucking them both into the small bed, smiling down at him sleepily. “You’re much warmer when you’re sleepy,” the human says and Yeosang chuckles.

“I’m never warm, and you shouldn’t even be inviting me into your bed. I’ll freeze our toes off.” 

But he doesn’t freeze Yunho’s toes off and even though it’ll cost him some more money, Yunho leaves the boiler on as they sleep, heads bowed together and huddled under a few layers of blankets. 

When Yeosang wakes, it’s warm. He can probably count on his ten fingers the number of times he’d woken up feeling warm and at least three of them are from sharing a bed with Mingi. When he goes to sit up, he feels Yunho’s arm is slung over his stomach and the human is drooling into his pillow next to him, hair mussed and cheeks pink. 

It’s nearing dawn and the forecast has called for at least five more inches of snow, so Yeosang drags himself from the bed as quietly as possible. He situates himself in front of the balcony doors and closes his eyes and lets his rejuvenated energy swirl inside his gut. The snow starts light and then picks up quickly, dusting the tops of the already heaping sidewalks with a fresh power in just minutes. He whispers to the winds, sends a prayer to Mother Nature and then opens his eyes to see the skies dark again and snow coming down thick, dropping the visibility to something like three meters. 

He sits by the doors, listening to the soft and steady breaths of the human still sleeping just a few steps away, and gazing out at the dark city, slowly and minorly lightening with the rising sun. When Yunho wakes with a light groan and a big bout of stretching, Yeosang finds himself unable to look away. 

“Good morning,” the human rasps out as he stumbles from the bed and into the little bathroom. Yeosang fixes himself back into staring at the sky outside. He listens to the calming sounds of Yunho going about his morning—the water turning on and then the shower turning on and then finally the sounds of the hair dryer whirring. 

It’s after the smell of coffee starts wafting that Yeosang turns to find Yunho coming towards him with two mugs in his hands. One of the mugs is pitch black and the other is a light brown. “You seem like the type to take sugar and milk,” is what Yunho says when he plops down on the floor beside Yeosang. He hums a little and then lets out a content little sigh. “Ah the floor is so much warmer than the bed.”

Yeosang thinks it might be true, though he knows nothing about central heating or electric heating or whatever it is the humans use these days. He sort of misses the times when all the warmth in a house came from the hearth at the center, glowing with orange and red embers all year round. 

He takes a sip of his coffee and finds he doesn’t mind the taste. He doesn’t necessarily need to eat or drink, but he is fitted into a human body and therefore can digest anything he puts into it. Yunho scoots a little closer as he cranes his neck this way and that, looking outside, over the fifteen or so inches of snow that has collected. 

“Are you mad at the world or something? They say we haven’t had a snow storm this big in like fifty years,” Yunho says with an amused little chuckle. 

Yeosang isn’t mad. Well, maybe he is always a little angry with humanity in the way all spirits and immortals are, but it’s not why he’s conjuring the storm. “No,” he answers truthfully. “Sometimes I just like to let my powers stew for a while before unleashing them, and this year just felt like the perfect year.” 

Yunho bristles and nods, speaks with a smile on his face afterwards. “Well, I’m not complaining. My professors have decided they’re not going to send us a million different assignments to do so I’m off the hook until all of this blows over.” 

Yeosang is glad Yunho’s getting somewhat of a break. He thinks the human probably deserves one. This human and maybe a lot of the other ones in the area. He sometimes feels bad for them, but that’s a whole different discussion he and Mingi like to have sometimes under the brightest Summer moon with a few puffs of the dragon’s most potent smoke swirling around between them.

He’s not so intensely focused on the storm outside, but he’s only just realized he hasn’t said anything more until both his and Yunho’s mugs have been drained. He’s a little afraid to turn to look at the human; afraid he’ll lose focus at the sight of those plump cheeks and smiling eyes. 

“So, why did you decide to come?” Yunho asks, breaking the heavy silence. 

It makes Yeosang look instinctively, and he wasn’t exactly wrong about not wanting to look because Yunho is puffy cheeked and red nosed and fluffy haired from sleep and a hot shower and maybe from the cold permeating through the window. He’s also looking at Yeosang with those stars, ever present, in his eyes. 

Yeosang forgets to speak for just a fraction of a moment, mouth opening to no sound, but he recovers soon enough, looking away and letting the storm inside him surge. “I wanted to experience it for myself.” 

“What?”

Yeosang still isn’t ready for those eyes to be fixed solely on him when he looks back up to the human. Yunho is something bordering ethereal in his own extremely human way and that’s something Yeosang thinks he could never really be ready for. “I wanted to experience what Mingi described as ‘being seen’, for myself,” he answers. Yunho blinks and it’s almost like every time he does, another tiny star appears and Yeosang can’t tear his own eyes away.

“What do you mean?” The human asks, uncertainty thick in his voice. Yeosang smiles and reaches out a hand to stroke at Yunho’s cheek. He watches the human’s eyelids flutter and feels his warm breath on his wrist. 

“Mingi said every time he’s with you, he feels like you see him in a way no one else does. Not like–not in the way of your _sight_ , but he described it as ‘being seen’,” Yeosang starts explaining. He’s not sure he’ll do it any justice because Mingi’s entirely too eloquent when he really wants to be. 

“He says it’s like you strip away his appearance and his facade and everything he’s stacked up to ‘here’,” he says raising his hand up above his head, “and then you look _at_ him and _through_ him and see everything he’s never wanted to show anybody.” 

“And he says you still love him stripped and bare and broken and it’s all written in the–” his voice cracks. “–the tiny stars in your eyes.” 

Yunho is looking at Yeosang with the most unreadable expression on his face. It’s like he’s contemplating his words and trying to find the right response, which frankly Yeosang doesn’t really know himself. All he hopes is that Yunho might not push him away and might smile at him one more time.

“And I just wanted to know what that might feel like,” Yeosang finishes. 

The bated breath of silence stretches infinitesimally and Yeosang finds himself losing hope. He’s come on too strong and too stubborn and now Yunho is going to push him out of the warmth of his house—his arms—and Yeosang, forever alive and forever cold, will return to his frosted kingdom and sulk in the arms of Hongjoong or maybe even Mingi if the dragon will still have him after hearing about this ridiculous encounter with the human that he adores so much.

But Yunho, kind, gentle, funny, infinitely handsome, and starry-eyed Yunho just smiles. It’s warm and sweet and Yeosang doesn’t think he’s ever going to get enough of it—be tired of it.

“I don’t know about stars, but I can try,” the human’s voice is quiet and soft and tickles Yeosang’s ears. He smiles too, letting warmth seep in from somewhere deep in his chest. 

“You don’t have to try,” he says, shifting just the tiniest bit closer to the human. “You’re already doing it.” 

His knees knock against Yunho’s as his hand comes up to cup the human’s warm jaw. Yunho shivers just the slightest at the cold touch. “Can I?” Yeosang asks when Yunho goes to lean in a little closer, smile never waning as his eyes flicker to Yeosang’s mouth. The human nods. 

Kissing Yunho is much like kissing Mingi. It’s warm and sweet and gentle and almost lethargic in the way it makes Yeosang’s brain go molten. But kissing Yunho is much different from kissing Mingi. The human’s warmth envelopes Yeosang from within instead of wrapping around him from the outside like the dragon’s and it’s almost like he’s being comforted rather than finding comfort. 

And it’s a little searing and a little awkward because they’re still sitting on the floor and Yunho’s bigger and taller than he is, but it’s just right in all the same ways—homey and subtle and _oh_ Yunho’s laughing into his mouth. 

“Sorry,” Yunho apologizes as he pulls away, eyes lingering on Yeosang’s mouth. His eyes are lidded but still holds the world and Yeosang finds himself lost in them for the millionth time.

“Why are you laughing?” Yeosang questions, sitting back and admiring the way Yunho’s cheeks fill up. 

The human giggles as he answers. “Because you’re like a cat. Grumpy and uninviting when you first meet them, but once they open their hearts to you, they want to always be in your lap and cuddle and just are so _soft_ and _fluffy_.”

Huh.

Yeosang narrows his eyes. Mingi’s said the same thing about him on occasion and while he just rolls his eyes and proceeds to doze off at the dragon’s remark, it doesn’t sound too bad when it’s coming from Yunho’s mouth. 

“Mingi says the same thing,” he replies, to which Yunho bows over into a fit of laughter. When he’s calmed to sporadic bouts of chuckles, the human gasps. 

“Wait, does that mean you and Mingi _do-the-do_?” The human shoots up, eyes alight with something like mischief. Yeosang contemplates lying, but he knows Mingi would just tell the truth the next time they’re together.

So he sighs and nods. “Yes.” 

Yunho howls in a fit of laughter again, though not in a condescending way. He’s got a little twinkle in his eyes and is gripping at Yeosang’s arms and legs and the spirit just kind of fondly watches as the large human just kind of dissolves into something like a puppy rolling around in grass. 

He’s surprised when Yunho giggles and pulls him up off of the floor into a crushing hug and a searing kiss. When he pulls away, there’s a sort of darkness behind his eyes that makes Yeosang’s gut roil. “Let’s make sure we have a nice story to tell him when we see him next.” 

  


Yunho’s tucked in his bed when Yeosang creeps out. The storm has settled and the night sky is dark but clear and Yeosang is exhausted in more ways than one. He doesn’t leave Yunho a note because he doesn’t want there to be some kind of finality, and that’s just not how he rolls. He knows that Yunho will understand.

When he catches a Northern wind in his fingers and climbs through the clouds, he breathes in and finds there’s sweetness in the air. Spring is near.

  


The little plant on Yunho’s balcony seems to have no motivation to start blooming again, but he supposes it’s alright. He’s never really been all that good at taking care of it and the plant had just kind of thrived on its own, so if it doesn’t want to come back, he’s totally okay. 

What he’s not okay with is having not seen Yeosang at all since that storm. Spring is in full swing now and while it’s still a little cold outside, Yunho likes to sit outside with a mug of coffee (or hot cocoa) and gaze at the passersby down the road or up at the wisps of the wind spirits he sometimes can get a glance of when the sun is shining just right 

“It’s freezing,” Mingi grumbles beside him, huddling into Yunho’s side and laying his head on Yunho’s chest. The dragon is fitted in two sweaters and Yunho’s puffy winter jacket.

“Go inside,” he says, pushing Mingi away a centimeter, only to have the dragon slide even closer. 

“‘t’s cold inside too,” he mumbles into Yunho’s shoulder, which the human laughs at. 

“Then go home.” “But I’m bored at home! No one’s visited me in two weeks Yunho!” The dragon whines, shooting upright in his chair scooted so close to the human he has to move away to not get hit by Mingi’s large frame. 

“Well that sounds–” but he doesn’t finish his sentence because there’s something golden dropping from the sky. It’s practically just shining light from this distance, but as it drops closer and closer, Yunho can just barely make out the shape of a person bathed in a brilliant golden aura. 

“What are you– _oh_ ,” Mingi says, looking over his shoulder and spotting the golden figure as well. 

It descends soundlessly and Yunho blinks because he’s only ever seen that aura once and if it’s who he thinks it might be then—but it’s not. Of course not. The spirit drops onto Yunho’s balcony with the smallest thump of a sound and smiles down at Mingi and then at Yunho. 

The man (?) before them brings a flowery scent with him, wafting through the space around them and drowning Yunho in so much of that _spring_ smell that he’s almost blindsided by it. Mingi gapes up at the man, mouth open big and starting in awe. 

He’s beautiful in that same way Yeosang is with dark hair and a perfect chiseled chin. His eyes are fierce but still gentle and Yunho gets the sense that he must be looking at a spring spirit. 

“Yunho, right?” The man asks and his voice is like golden ambrosia, low and melodious and dripping. The human nods.

“And Mingi?” The spring spirit tilts his head in Mingi’s direction and the dragon wordlessly nods too, still looking up at the spirit with his mouth open. Yunho reaches over to force it closed and then relishes in the slight chuckle that the spirit before them lets out. 

“My name is Seonghwa and I’ve just come to deliver a message from Yeosang,” the spirit says regarding the two of them with kind eyes. 

“He’s just not back because he’s recovering from the atrocious storm he delivered on the last few days of winter,” the spirit says with a bit of bitterness in his voice. He wonders if Yeosang did some damage to the soil or something with the storm. The freezing ground is no good for budding plants, after all. 

“He doesn’t much like to leave his dwelling during the warmer months, as you know.” Seonghwa pointedly looks at Mingi this time. “But he’ll be back, I think soon.” 

The corner of the spirit’s mouth is tugged up into a pretty little smile as he continues. “He didn’t mention it, but I think he misses you, Yunho. He’s been kind of sulky lately from what I can tell, although Hongjoong’s not really too good of an informant.” 

Yunho feels his chest tightening at the mention of how Yeosang might be missing him. He misses the spirit dearly, too. 

“He mostly told me to tell you not to worry,” Seonghwa assures with a softer smile. He eyes the two of them on the balcony and regards them with a knowing look that has Yunho’s cheeks flushing. “I think I see why he’s so _smitten_.” 

The spirit disappears with the wind, leaving a few flower petals in his wake and the smell of honeysuckle in the air. Mingi blinks at Yunho and the human finds he can’t stop smiling, thinking about getting to see the grumpy little spirit again. 

“Is he going to invite me too when he comes to see you?” The dragon says as they’re making their way back inside the apartment and Yunho shrugs. 

“Maybe. It’ll be fun, hm?” He counters, a small bounce in his step as he goes to put away their mugs. Mingi chuckles low and Yunho looks up to see the dragon’s eyes on him, smiling fondly. 

“You’ve just got everyone wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?” 

Yunho hums and quirks an eyebrow. Maybe he does.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!  
> please leave a kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed it!  
> happy holidays and new years to you all !!  
> as always, you can find me on twitter @[jonghhho](http://twitter.com/jonghhho)!


End file.
